Immaculate Filth
by KadiToka-Chii
Summary: She's the sweetest thing in the world; what harm could she cause to this simple fandom? The answer: Think the Apocalypse.
1. Introduction, Whut?

**Immaculate Filth**

**…**

**Introduction, Whut?**

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||I just have to. This fandom really needs it.

**NOTE: In no way am I targeting anyone's OC, or their OC-related plot. I'm just… generalizing. A lot.**

**||Disclaimer: I do not own Bakugan. I do own the OCs I used in the making of this fic, however.**

**||No wai, lots of swearing?! Especially with that nasty F-word?! I should watch out for that?! Thanks for the warning~!**

**And no wai, you're purposefully gonna try and make people mad at you?! Okay that, I'll be ready to tell you, "you suck~"! ;D**

**And you're purposefully adding in a little bit of hypocrisy?! I better call you on that, then~!!**

**And this particular chapter should technically be M-Rated, but because the rest of the fic ought to be considered safe, you're just keeping it at T?! Well, that decision is debatable, but thanks for the info~!**

**||She's the sweetest thing in the world; what harm could she cause to this simple fandom? The answer: Think the Apocalypse.**

* * *

This story begins with a "Once upon a time".

It could actually begin with many things. "Years ago, in a galaxy far, far away"; "It was a dark and stormy night"; "Hi! My name is Blah-Blah-Blah-Stab-Me-Now, and I blah-blah-blah-no-one-cares-but-let's-get-all-the-details-about-my-character-over-with-now-oh-em-gee-hawt-canon-character-RAPE!". Realistically, there's no difference; such corny and overused titles have become interchangeable over the last five minutes or so.

However, because it sounds sweet and happy and appears to lead to a fairytale ending, "Once upon a time" seems to fit a lot more.

The denotation of such an introduction is debatable in regard to the relevance it has to this story. After all, this is hardly something meant for a child, despite it outlining the sins of many young authors.

This is the story of one fandom, one tiny and insignificant fandom that was largely ignored by the general population of fanfiction enthusiasts with a greater idea as to what exactly quality is. These enthusiasts are very intelligent people, steering clear of something that could harm their intelligence.

To those who _do_ know of this fandom, it is known as many things and inspires many thoughts. Some of these include:

_"Zomg, i L-U-V THS SHOO ITS SOOOOO COL!!!!!!!!!111!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1111 YAYZ SHUN!! BEET THOS NASSTE BADIES!!!!!!!11111!!!!!!!!111111!!!"_

_"Ooh… interesting. Big monsters battling it out, group of kids responsible for saving the world as we know it through an insignificant but horrifyingly popular game… original! OH MY GOD HAWT NINJA DUDE?!"_

_"… Blah. Wind kid is pretty cool."_

_"Ahh… it's kind of ridiculous. But the characters… I can do something with those. …I CAN BECOME A PAIRING FANGIRL. OH MY GOD, YAY~. OH MY GOD, I SHOULD TOTALLY PAIR THAT BLACK-HAIRED COOL GUY WITH SOMEONE."_

_"OH MY GOD THE BATTLES ARE SO EPIC I TOTALLY LOVE THIS OH MY GOD BADLY IMPLEMENTED ROMANCE I AM SO IN DESPITE THE FACT THAT THESE KINDS OF PAIRINGS ARE SO OVERUSED!! ESPECIALLY WITH THAT CUTE NINJA GUY AND THAT HEROIC AND COOL BROWN-HAIRED KID~!"_

_"Show sucks. Fandom sucks. Let's try and inject some wholesome quality into it~! And hey, though that ninja guy is kinda cool, how about I focus on him… and some other characters for a change~?"_

My own personal views on it, the first sentence of which that I'm sure many other people share, would be, _"Fuck, this show sucks. …Fuck, I'm still watching it. …Fuck, I can't tear myself away from it. Fuck, I want to stab my eyes and dump bleach into it. Fuck, I think it's contaminating me! Fuck no, someone stop this, save me! God fucking damn you Sega and SpinMaster, what is this atrocity?! Did you drug it?! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck—ooh, girly looking guys. Fuck the world~. RAPE."_

Yes people. Rape. There are some sickos in this world who rape people, and that is a _very_ bad thing (unless it is mind rape and the victim is completely unaware). And then there are other people who rape fictional people. Because they are mostly doing this for snots and giggles, it is okay to just avoid them. Yes, I see you edging away from your screen and going for that backspace button. Bitch, are you that sensitive?

Anyways. Back to cursing this show's existence and the point of this little piece of possibly controversial writing.

This fandom is infected, with a horrible disease that affects the brain directly.

BE AFRAID. You might have this disease.

What is this disease that truly plagues this fandom, you may ask? Some call it naiveté. Some call it lack of experience or skills. Some call it being pathetic. Others call it utter stupidity.

My opinion is with the utter stupidity faction.

It is a disease that is often accompanied with symptoms such as bad grammar and spelling, not getting a beta, being overly attached to a preferred character or pairing, bashing any disliked character or pairing needlessly, overdone plots, being unpopular with the real world and subsequently trying to build up your self-esteem over the Internet, and a scratchy throat that eventually leads to you coughing up so much blood that you die.

It's tragic, really.

This fandom is infected with all of these things, and the bulk of its population of authors with at least one of the aforementioned symptoms. There is also one other symptom, one that haunts us all across this site.

It was one of the larger factors that made this one tiny and insignificant fandom pure crap.

But what is this shattered, crappy, wretched fandom, you may be wondering? And if you are wondering, then GTFO because you shouldn't have to be informed, you dipwad.

I digress. Allow us to wander back to the point of this writing, so that I may start a controversy that will lead people to _spite_ me.

We begin again, with –

– once upon a time. Once upon a time, there was a fandom. There was a fanfic. There was the canon universe of Bakugan. And there was a girl who would turn this canon universe inside out and rape it mercilessly.

This is a story about a girl named…

* * *

**||So who knows where I'm going with this? :3**


	2. Charred Piles of Rubble and Kindling FTW

**Immaculate Filth**

**Charred Piles of Rubble and Kindling FTW~**

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**||So all the feedback I've gotten so far was… postive and supportive. Apparently, people are not ticked off by silly chatter about the words fuck and rape. As great as it is to see that people are so beautifully open-minded, I'm a bit… sad.**

**But I will make at least _one_ person declare war on me! Even if I have to bring in controversial issues like homophobia, abortion, and that old guy! YOU TRAMPS WILL BE INSOLENT, DAMMIT.**

**Also; I actually had to come up with a semi-original past for the "Heroine". I really wanted to rip off a common Mary Sue past… however, that would technically be picking at someone's particular piece of work. Moreover, that would involve me having to actually go through and at least try to read at a reasonable depth the majority of OC fanfiction in this fandom. My brain can only take so much damage.**

**And I don't care if Johnny Depp could actually pull Preyas off, I REFUSE to let him be a minor in the Bakugan movie. It better be a fucking rumour. *Depp fangirl, whut?***

**||Disclaimer:**** I do not own Bakugan. I do own my OCs.**

**||Our OC "heroine" is introduced, as well as two other OCs. Warning: one of them uses rather _foul_ language~. Though I did tone it down. I promise.**

* * *

"Your Majesty, the chances of us winning this are close to zero! It's impossible! We may have driven the Wretched One back for _now_, but…"

The words faltered into broken embarrassment as soft eyes of bright violet glanced his way, an understanding smile twinkling in them. Her sweet voice quickly soothed the knight's fears. "Please, Farbus. Nothing is impossible if we set our minds to it and work together. After all, good will _always_ triumph over evil."

"Y-Yes, milady." The knight blushed a brilliant red, shifting uncomfortably in his armour as the girl giggled gently, brushing back glistening locks of silvery hair as she glanced around the rest of the room, still smiling that special smile that quickly hushed the anxiety on the faces of the rest of her advisors.

"Please everyone, have faith in me. I don't think I've ever let any of you down before, and I will not begin to now."

A chorus of "We believe in you, your Majesty!", "Praise the Queen!" and "Snookied!" rang throughout the room, echoing off the candle-light lit walls joyously. The girl continued to smile and nod patiently until all cries quieted down.

"Now," she began, hands clasped respectfully in front of her, "I admit that the situation is dire… but I have a proposal." Not a word was spoken as she paused, feeling the eyes of everyone upon her, her delicately pale face set in determination. "I will follow the Wretched One back to wherever it hides, and finish this once and for all!"

Gasps resounded, horrified and awed. Farbus took a step forward, hands held out pleadingly. "Milady, you can't possibly do such a thing! We… there's the possibility that you could lose! You are, after all, human… what will the kingdom do without you?! We need you! Who else will take care of all that paperwork?!"

"Do you truly doubt her skills?" This new voice, wise and tinkling, sounded from the girl's shoulder; an argentine orb popped open, looking calmly at the frantic knight. "She has never lost _anything_ yet. If that cannot satisfy you, then you have my word that I will protect her."

Again the knight stammered, the expressions on his face conflicting, but backed away sheepishly all the same. "O-Of course…"

"Your Majesty." One bashful counselor stepped forward, wringing his hands together and trembling. "If… if this is truly your desire, then we will not stop you. But… where will you go? The Wretched One could be anywhere—"

"No fear." The orb on the girl's shoulder floated to the top of her glistening head, glowing. The air behind them shimmered, faint golden lines of an arch etched into it. "I know exactly where she is. She has taken refuge… in my native land."

A gasp sounded immediately; it did not stop the girl of turning around to reach her hand towards the newly-made sparkling doorway. Clearly, she would not turn back from her decision.

"Farewell and good luck, milady!" The girl paused for a moment, turning around to give the crier a warm smile, before she took the last step.

"Yes, Queen Kireina Oni!" another of her council called out, as the portal swallowed her completely and instantly dissolved away. "Please, come back to us safely!"

"Damn," Farbus muttered under his breath, watching the space where the girl, Kireina, had once stood with a mixture of admiration and sadness. "I really wanted to tap that…"

* * *

"Moooo-lah, homey! You friggin' hear that? We're getting' a lotta cheddah for this fatass baby!"

"Shh…" The hushing sound just madely managed to make it past his quivering lips, and it definitely wasn't strong enough to reach his partner's ears. It was probably for the best; after all, no one would want to incite the quick temper of a certain someone when one was on the floor, face down, and could easily find their measily excuse for a spine snapped in half.

"Wanna know the first thing I'mma gonna do as soon as I get that sweet-ass paycheck?"

_No I don't. You know why? Because you are never, ever getting that check, you lousy bi—ack! No no no, she might be reading my mind, I must think nicely of her…_ "W-What?"

Once again, the word was too quiet to be heard. But that was irrevelant; she was going to announce what she planned to do with the paycheck whether he wanted to hear or not. "I'mma gonna by a bitchload of ammunition, and then I'mma gonna roarin' in on that damn old people home! Seriously, homes, I betcha the lot of them are pedophiles! Pedophilia's a fucking crime!"

---

"I thought this character was supposed to be a gangster?"

"Correction. She's a wannabe gangster."

"Well, excuse me if you suck at writing _wannabe_ gangster talk. Really, if a real wannabe gangster were to read this, they would really _hate_ you for writing such a skewed misinterpretation of their dialect. For serious, try to get it right."

"Can you write wannabe-gangster-ese?"

"…I have a wannabe gangster for a stepbrother."

"That doesn't answer the question."

"…No."

"Exactly. Be silent with the hypocrisy."

"I'm sorry, but it's hard when the basis of my personality is hypocrisy. Both of our personalities, actually…"

"Touché."

---

"And then I'm going for the damn orphanage! Because, man, those nasty little snot-nosed brats ain't as innocent as you think! And then the friggin' elementary school, them anklebiters are just as bad! One of 'em tried to steal my lunchbox the other day! I had to beat 'em to get it back!"

At this point, he felt as though he should correct her and spare the sinless children; for one thing, it wasn't her lunchbox. And she definitely was _not_ the victim of the scene. And for another thing, he was pretty sure that she was getting her life mixed-up with that of Karen Walker's from _Will & Grace_. Yes, he would correct her on that…he simply needed to work up the necessary courage and volume. Granted, that would take several hours, and by then they would have forgotten all about this, but he really should speak up for the innocents…

His train of thought was lost when the door swung open, smacking him squarely in the face. And yes, that was his nose making the nasty crunchy sound. Thank you so very much for caring.

---

Farbus blinked when the door refused to move forward, resolutely swinging back instead. With a frown, he threw the door open again, only for the knob to bounce back into his hand with a pained yowl. Well, this simply wouldn't do, for the chief knight to be thwarted by a measly door. This called for drastic action.

He gripped the doorknob, eyes narrowing into two slivers of ice. This fiendish tool for exiting and entering rooms will not get the best of him!

"Um…Farbus?" One of the councilors tapped his shoulder timidly; the knight jumped in surprise, accidently pushing the door again.

_And it still refused to open all the way the insolent bitch_. Not only that, but it was crying! As though this diabolical slab of wood had the heart to cry and feel pain! It was clearly an act to win his pity! Oh, but yes, just wait, he would give this door a _real_ reason to cry soon enough…

The councilor continued, oblivious to the war about to unfold between man and postern. "Would it be possible for us to…er, leave the room? Some of us reeeaaally want to go to the temple and pray for the success of the Queen…"

Farbus blinked again, and a few more times to get that anxious effect. How could he fulfill such a request without revealing the embarrassing truth of his sudden inability to work a doorway? "Um…of course. Just a moment…"

---

"Hey, are you going to get to the actual _story_ sometime soon?"

"Shut up. I'm writing funny stuff."

"It's not funny."

"You have no right to have an opinion about my works."

"_Your_ works?"

"Yes. My works. Because you are too insignificant an invertebrate for me to consider being a co-author."

"Invertebrate?"

"Oh, I apologize. Should I dumb it down for you?"

"^^ Oh, no need, you anthropoidic, microbic, superfluous refuse of sub-sentient cerebellum and corporeal substantiality."

"You sooo used a thesaurus to piece that together."

"As if you didn't use a thesaurus to think up 'invertebrate'."

"…How about we move away from our incapability of speaking what we perceive to be _intelligently_ without the aid of a thesaurus and go back to whatever the hell you were yapping about earlier?"

"Whatever. …What was that again?"

"Well, I think that you were going to suggest I move the plot _past_ the deviousness of doors, _instead_ wasting time on purposeless mini-scenes that express the sheer beauty of humour at it's finest."

"…It's not funny."

"SAYS YOU."

---

"That's one way to open a door," the councilor murmured respectfully, admiring the smoking hole that now dominated the wall.

Farbus casually flicked back a stray strand of strawberry-gold hair as he too regarded his handiwork with fondness. "Inoright?" With a _very_ modest smirk, he examined the charred pile of rubble and kindling…and then realized that there was _totally a chick_ standing the hallway, right beside the charred pile of rubble and kindling.

He glanced at the chick hopefully –

– then looked away quickly. If she wasn't as glamorously beautiful as the Queen, then she soooo wasn't worth tapping.

Actually, he couldn't really gauge her level of beauty; her face was hidden behind the shadow of the large brim of her hat – embellished with glittering green and gold dollar signs – and ragged tufts of black hair (though the black was definitely fading, and there were spots of dirty blonde showing through). All that he could really see of her face were two tiny, barely noticeable blue irises staring back at him.

And there was nothing that could account for a killer-and-totally-smexeh figure; the girl was practically drowning in that heavy purple hoody of hers, and the shape of her hips was lost among the folds of her sagging "skinny" jeans – the ankles of which, as well as her clumsily big black skater shoes, were dirty with the dust from the charred pile of rubble and kindling – held up only by a thick black belt that had a sneering skull for a buckle.

He wasn't even really sure how he realized the person was a girl in the first place. Perhaps the gods had allowed it to be known for him, so that he may choose this lass as his one true love…?

BLASPHEMOUS DEITIES! How dare they try to insinuate that someone other than the holy Queen be his soulmate!

"Just keep your head low and walk away," the councilor muttered, ducking around Farbus' arms as he raised his fists towards the ceiling, snarling and screaming incoherently, the charred pile of rubble and kindling sitting forgotten before him. The rest of the room's occupants followed the first councilor, sparing no glances for the stricken girl staring dumbly at the knight.

She was so stricken, in fact, that she didn't notice the hoarse whispers of _utter pain_ and the twitching hand scrabbling through a chalky hole in the surface of the charred pile of rubble and kindling that you, reader, should already be aware of. This is simply an example of being unable to come up with anything except the same description over and over and over and over and over…and over…and trying to be annoying by using it over and over and over and over…and over…even when it's unnecessary.

"J-Jill…Jill, save me, please…I can't feel my nose…oh god, there's so much blood, I can feel it on my face, and I think it's trickling into my mouth…I'm going to be drowned by my own blood…agh, I'm…running out of air…Jill, please, _please_ notice me as I take advantage of this rare moment of kindness from the author that allows me to defy logic and still cling to life after being blasted by overwhelming magical power and buried beneath this charred pile of rubble and kindling…oh please, Jesus, don't let me die now…"

As ignorant as Jill was to the dire predicament the miraculously speaking charred pile of rubble and kindling, Farbus wasn't. Slowly and deliberately, he slowly and deliberately lowered his fists, and slowly and deliberately cast his eyes upon the charred pile of rubble and kindling that slowly and deliberately sat there.

And Farbus seethed, reader. He seethed with all the rage of a proud man who had discovered that the inhuman adversary he had made barely a minute and a half ago _was still speaking_.

---

"You are _so_ just delaying getting to the Bakugan part of this story, aren't you?"

"Shut up. I'm having fun with this."

"I really think you should just leave poor Harry alone. He's already been beaten by a door three times, broke his nose, got caught in a blast of overwhelming magical power and is now very near death. And he's supposed to play a bigger role in this fic. Which, you know, would be kinda hard for him to do in the afterlife…"

"_I said shut up I am having fun with this_. Don't you understand that the basis of contemporary humour is the eternal pain of guileless characters such as him?"

"Of course I do. I suggested it."

"…How about this. You shut up, and I promise that I will definitely get to the Bakugan part of this story at some point of time in this chapter."

"Well, it's not like I actually care that much. I was just mentioning that you're delaying the inevitable pain of having to write the mindless dolts that make up the Resistance."

"_True_ as that may be…shit. I don't have a shrewd comeback—"

"—you could always just say 'shut up'…"

"Shut up."

---

"Being of evil and despair!" Gnashing his teeth together, Farbus pointed threateningly at the charred pile of rubble and kindling with hands that were glowing a definite hue of gold. Yep. Glowing gold. He thought it was pretty badass. "Prepare to face your DOOM!"

The hand poking out of the charred pile of rubble and kindling waved helplessly, moving with the desperate wails sounding from somewhere deep inside. "No! No, I'm sososososososo sorry, I'll never lay on the floor in front of an opening door again, just spare me! Spare me the doom and your badass powers, I'm innocent! FORGIVE MEEEEEE!"

Farbus went still, hands still flickering as a slow grin unfurled on his face. "…You think my powers are badass? Because…you know, they kinda are…"

Aha! So the key to his survival was to act like a kiss-up! Now this was definitely something the owner of the hand could do. "Y-Yes, they are! I-I'm u-unworthy to be s-subject to it's sheer badassness! P-Please, spare m-me, a-almighty one!"

This was definitely a pose-like-a-badass for Farbus. He puffed out his chest, grin growing larger with each word. "Well, I suppose I can work up a bit of mercy for such a pitiable inanimate obje—" The knight suddenly went silent, face wiped of all emotion. There was something wrong with the way that the remains of the hated door was _talking_ to him…it didn't follow logic. Inanimate objects didn't have nervous systems, and thus couldn't feel pain, even if they were blasted to bits. So the appearance of a "pained" voice didn't make sense.

He would have attributed it to the underhanded ways of the brute, but now that he thought about it, the door wouldn't even be _talking_ in the first place. They much preferred to remain haughty and aloof.

And then, it hit him. _It was a human being pleading for his life._

At least he could brag about his badass-powers-of-deduction.

"Oh, shit!" Farbus broke out of his pose-of-badassness and leapt towards the charred pile of rubble and kindling – and that will _totally be the last time that description is used_ – and stuck his hands in valiantly, digging out all the plaster and crap. It wasn't long until he was dragging out the trembling form of a very beaten-up boy.

A thin chest fluttered under a ridiculously big brown wool sweater and knobby knees knocked together in an awesome alliteration combo as Farbus gently set him down on the ground. Blood smeared his face and clung to the tips of his unstyled sandy hair, the source being a very squashed nose and a few tiny shards of glass speared in his cheeks and forehead. Owlish hazel eyes flitted open weakly, cracked behind a half-smashed pair of squared, thick-rimmed glasses.

"I-I'm alive?" the boy wheezed incredulously. "AH-AH-AH _paaaaiiiiin_. But…life! Yes! Oh, blessed lord of all that is kind and great on this green earth, I sing you praises!"

"Yeah yeah yeah, that's great," Farbus mumbled frantically as his hands changed from gold to a soft baby blue. Which, by the way, is _just_ as badass as gold, if not more.

The boy blinked hazily, whimpering as his nose crunched back into place as Farbus' hands passed over his face; glass darted out of his skin, blood was magically wiped away, and a couple of ribs popped back into place. "I…I'm healed! Oh, gracious one, thy compassion is truly boundless!"

Farbus waved these compliments away absentmindedly. "Trust me, I know. I'm just that fantabulous. Anyways, what's it gonna take to keep your mouth shut?"

He blinked again. "Huh?"

"If anyone found out that I nearly killed you, I would soooo be fired from this sweet gig. You see, I kinda had to take this oath, and I'm not allowed to harm any human life, which really doesn't make sense for someone whose a knight and who works with sharp shiny toys that could cripple any insignificant lifeform and has epic magical powers that easily could destroy an entire nation. So the logical course of action would be for me to do you a favour in order to keep you quiet about this little mishap, a strategy I will go with as I am unaware that your gratefulness exceeds your anger and so keeping quiet about the restrictions of the oath would actually be best course of action so that you wouldn't be able to use it against me in some sort of evil scheme to do harm to those I care for most."

---

"Oh my god. You're as bad as the actual Bakugan writers."

"Shut u—hey. That…actually hurt, you know."

"…Ohh. So…you do have feelings?"

"I…I think so."

"Crazy stuff."

"Inoright?"

---

"So, what do you want?" Farbus continued, oblivious to the boy's bewildered expression. "Gold? A way to fame? A bed for the night? A genie? Some sort of tiny magical token that will prove to be essential for your treacherous journey ahead?"

"Um… er, if it's not too much trouble, if you could just point me to the washro—OW!"

Jill quickly backed away, quietly taking notice of the big black skater shoe-shaped print on the back of her partner's head and whistling when he turned to her, aghast with pain.

Suddenly, he understood her little "hint"; he whipped around back towards Farbus, cowering a little as he made his request. "Erm… well, we were kind of wondering – and this is only if you feel like disclosing such crucial information instead of blasting us into bits – but, um, could you tell us… where Queen Kireina Oni went to?"

"Her Majesty? Oh, she went to New Vestroia of course."

"New Vestroia?" The boy perked up a bit as his hand dived into the pocket of his ragged slacks, pulling out a battered brown notebook and flipping through the pages with shaking hands. "Er, what fandom is that from again… oh, I think it's Digimon…"

"No," Jill mumbled as she kneeled beside him, voice void of all the brash arrogance it had held prior to the door's initial opening. "It's YuGiOh."

"Really? Wait… I think it's actually Pokemon."

"Here, let me see that book… nope, B-Daman."

"But that can't be… look here, Dinosaur King, doesn't that sound right?"

"…It kinda does. But it still doesn't sound _completely_ right."

"I guess we'll just work that out later." The boy stashed the book away, back in his pocket, and turned his miserable eyes back on Farbus. "Um, so where is this 'New Vestroia'? Is it down the street? Is it another country? Do we need to take an airline, or are we okay with a taxi?"

"It's in another dimension."

"…That would be one hell of a taxi ride," Jill said with a low whistle.

Farbus nodded, running a hand through his long and glorious locks of prettiness. "What do you need her Majesty for anyways? Are you delivering a message or something? Did something go wrong in Accounting? You could always talk to Gregin, he takes care of all the Queen's matters when she's off saving the world."

"Er, no…" The boy wracked his mind agitatedly, searching through all that gray matter for a rational reason to need to meet her. 'Her utter demise' probably wouldn't fly. "We wanted… her autograph."

"That's all? Why, I could just take you down to the gift shop, we're selling them by the handful there."

Cue loss of hope for the pair. Depressed, the boy dragged himself to his feet, wobbling a bit. "No, no… we'll be fine."

"If you say so." Farbus shrugged and snapped his fingers; a twinkling violet stone fell into his palm, which he handed to the stunned boy. "I feel a bit bad for not being more help, so here's a tiny magical token that will prove to be essential for your treacherous journey ahead. Don't break it, okay? They're expensive."

Without another word, the knight turned and strode away – like a model – leaving the boy and Jill to stare at his retreating back. "… That fucker had pointy ears," Jill grumbled, brash arrogance returning.

He was just going to keep quiet and pretend to agree with her. But eventually, he will speak in the defense of the beautiful man who had saved his life and was poised to become his new hero… he would.

"I could have whipped that girly-man from here to Kentucky, ya'know."

"I-I'm not denying that…"

"I COULD HAVE, BITCH! Ya hear me?! I just… didn't wanna exert the energy!"

"I-I believe you."

---

And now, readers, is the moment of triumph.

The moment in which the story actually _progresses_. As in, we actually get to the actual canon characters and all the actual things that actually have to do with the actual Bakugan.

Aren't you excited?

"No."

"No one asked you. No one asks you anyways."

"My Momsy asks me what I want for dinner."

"… Well then."

"Yeah. It's a really hard decision, actually. I always want to say McDonalds, but then I'll come across as fat, since I already eat so much junk, plus it costs money, but there's rarely anything good to eat in the house…"

"Shut up."

---

"So you see, when your opponent uses Blibbedy Blah, you can use Blaghy Bleh in response, it totally pumps up your Bakugan big time! But you gotta shout and wave your arms dramatically when you play it, otherwise, it won't seem as dramatic."

Baron nodded eagerly, scribbling down this precious piece of advice on the half-filled sheet of paper in front of him as Dan scratched the back of his head with a boastful grin. "I see now, Master Dan! Tell me, should I shout more like the Hulk, or like Tarza—oh no! My crayon! It _broooooke!_"

The grin slipped off Dan's face as Baron raised the neatly snapped pink crayon despondently, tears threatening to burst from his eyes. "Um… gee, that's too bad."

"My crayooooooon! This can't be, it was supposed to be me and this crayon against the world for life!"

"…I'm sure there'll be other crayons, man."

The younger boy sniffled. "I-If you say so, Master Dan…"

"Blaghy Bleh? Really?"

Dan jerked away from his attempts at comforting his disciple, glaring at the exasperated Ace leaning coolly against the wall. "Yeah, Blaghy Bleh! You see a problem with it?!"

"Yeah, I do in fact. Blaghy Bleh is _easily_ stopped by Bwabwablu. You gotta use Boobaboo, that always does the trick!"

"Oh please! Does Boobaboo make _fire_ come out of your Bakugan's nostrils?!"

"It does."

"…You need a haircut!"

At that point, Marucho piped up from his position by the computers; another tetris block tumbled slowly down the screen as the midget painstakingly flipped its position. "Both Blaghy Bleh and Boobaboo can be countered by Bim Bweh. The best choice would be to use a Double Ability, with Bishbosh and Balalalala."

Dan scowled as Ace bristled in retaliation, shooting a most hurtful remark towards the youngest member of the Resistance. "You're short!"

Meanwhile, Mira looked upwards dully from her seat on the couch, trying to block out the rather pointless conversation by counting the cracks in their bus' ceiling. If they weren't going to believe that the Vexos had made up the Blah Blah Ability series and told them about it just to mess with their heads, then she wasn't going to bother. Shun sat beside her, flipping through the newest issue of _J-14_.

_And then, it happened._

The authoress remembered that the Bakugan existed for once and quickly mentioned that they were all chilling in a mini-Jacuzzi that Marucho had whipped up using a stove and a pot.

Drago went stiff (as stiff as a marble could get without breaking itself), forgetting to pay attention to Elfin's happy chatter about that toooootally hawt dude at the bar last night. "I sense…overwhelming power!"

"Whaaaat?" Percival moaned in exasperation, popping open grouchily. "That's the seventh time today!"

"Well, I'm sorry if there's a surprising amount of people and objects with overwhelming power. Myself included."

"Don't rub it in, jackass."

"Hm?" Something worthwhile to look into? Mira glanced at the Bakugan's pot, hurriedly standing up as Shun sighed and closed his magazine. (It was a really interesting article about Justin Beiber's nasty haters, too. Who would have thunk it?) The rest of the team practically leapt for the pot, eyes brightening in anticipation for something exciting to actually happen for once.

"Really, Drago?!"

"Yes."

"Ohmygosh, this is sooo exciting! Nemus, we gotta battle our hardest, okay?!"

"Um, of course, Baron… although overwhelming power doesn't necessarily point towards a ba—oh, nevermind, it does."

"Percival, we gotta look really cool, okay?! You have your lines memorized?!"

"Always!"

"Let's go!" Dan, Ace, and Baron cheered together, sticking their hands ecstatically in the pot… and prompty pulling them out. "Hot water, hot water! Pain!"

Mira sighed, putting her hands on her hips as Shun quietly set the magazine on the coffee table. Marucho laughed nervously as his three comrades shook their boiled-red hands morosely.

And then.

Light.

Shining through the windows.

_And it wasn't the Sun. _Just so you know. Cause normally, when light is shining through the windows, it's the Sun. And although this light was just as bright and yellow and warm and purtyful as the Sun's light, it definitely wasn't the Sun. You can tell because earlier, three sentences had been separated dramatically. Normally, you wouldn't bother with such fancy touches for common sunlight.

"Dude!" Dan dashed for the door as it slid open, the rest of the team hot on his heels (minus Shun, who had forgotten to put a bookmark in the magazine and now had to refind his page).

---

Reader, perhaps you realize it by now. This encounter was not going to be the same as the other six encounters they had gone through that day, nor the forty-three encounters to be remembered from the past week.

…That is a load of bullshit. Encounters with overwhelming powers only have two options; either you meet a fantastical ally who pretty much takes over your job of saving a race of big ugly monsters, or you have to fight a dangerous and wily enemy who falls to the power of teamwork, friendship, and cheatcodes in the end.

But what is different about _this_ encounter, is that it is detailed in _this_ fic. It is the _point_ of this fic. Were _those_ other encounters detailed in _this_ fic? No, they were _not_. They were detailed in other fics of much _lesser_ magnitude and conceit.

And now to use that lovely little praise, "I digress". Readers, this is the turning point of the Brawler's lives for this specific writing. This is the initial incident that you should have learned about in English class, unless they call it something else in other schools.

Readers, _this_ is a crappily done cliffhanger.

This is the end of this particular chapter of my free time.

Good day~

* * *

**||I did once read an article about Justin Beiber's _nasty_ haters. And I'm pretty sure it was in J-14 that I read it in. Don't quote me, though~.**


	3. Grrckle?

**Immaculate Filth  
**_**Grrckle?**_

**||… Soooo. Guess what OC is sticking around permanently? x3 Also; Junjou Romantica isn't one of my favourite animes. The plot gets reeeaaally repetitive. But it's cute, and at some points could trouble a naïve young child~. I enjoy it for that reason. But it's actually pretty mild for what it is. I've actually seen more explicit at the public library. 8D**

**Another note: I decided I want freedom to swear a lot. After some careful thought, I decided to change this fic's rating to "M"; if there's gonna be more than two "fucks" per chapter, I want to be able to rightfully write that. Plus, I can throw in all kinds of perverted humour. :D**

**But that doesn't mean this is turning into smut. =_= Sillies. Get your fucking tramp minds out of the fucking gutter. You fucking insolent tramps. ;3 BESIDES SMUT IS BAD AND ISN'T ALLOWED ON THIS SITE SO GET THAT SHIT OFF OF HERE.**

**Cough cough.**

**Also, Johnny Depp will thankfully never play Preyas. His career is not tainted. Yaaaaay~**

**||Disclaimer: I dost not own Bakugan. I do own Harry, Jill, Farbus, and the driver~**

* * *

This chapter begins with a fabulous shot of a wide, empty plain. Imagine it, if you so desire; a downy blanket of grass so green it could be candy, coating the world as far as the eye could see, with a dome of breezy blue stretched across the heavens. Here, noble beasts had grazed, free citizens of their homey dimension for a brief time. But alas, they wander here no more – though not for long.

Come on. You _know_ that the world isn't going to be destroyed. You _know_ that the main character is going to be the big hero. You know that every other pathetic attempt at "plot" throughout the show is just padding. Not even _cool_ padding. The entire _show_ is something very much akin to the Naruto fillers, which are widely acclaimed by many intelligent anime fans – not little wannabe kiddies who _only_ watch mainstream and commercial anime – to totally _suck_.

Fr srs.

Watch _cool_ anime, kids. Watch Junjou Romantica. :D (_This message has been brought to you by the Society of Bored Teenage Girls Trying to Poison Young Minds…With a Smile!_)

And now watch, in the distance – the thin wisp of smoke rising in the sky, and a small yellow dot in the distance, searing it's way across the clearing, the pitiful screams emanating from it shattering the peace.

In a blazing glory – quite literally – the bulky cab screeched to a halt. The screams didn't stop. It was quite a few minutes before Jill finally bottled up her howls; now it was just a matter of opening her eyes.

She was immediately met with the less-than-desirable image of the scowling driver sticking out his hand sullenly. "Pay up."

Forcing her shaky lips into a sneer, Jill glanced out the window suspiciously as she elbowed her partner in the stomach; Harry fell silent with nothing more than a few muffled whimpers. The view didn't offer much – just congested smoke and a hellish inferno. As far as she knew, he was lying and dumping them in some sort of volcano. "How I know ya ain't jacking us, foo? Ya sure this is New Ves?"

The driver scratched the stubble lining the top of his mouth grouchily. "Oh, I'm sorry, are _you_ the one who makes a living out of carting people around to different realms? Trust me, this is New Vestroia. I've made the trip dozens of times, it's a popular vacation spot."

"… Feh." Never mind that he actually had a good point. Flipping him the middle finger (because that is exactly what badass gangsters do, foo), Jill turned away and elbowed Harry again. "Ya heard 'im, pay up."

"O-Of course, ma'am." No matter that his stomach was still lurching violently from being abused so much – he'd been through worse. He quickly shoved his hand into his pocket as he managed out the stammer out a question: "H-How much i-is i-it?"

"Sixty-five thousand, eight hundred seventy-one bucks and twenty-two cents. And half a soul."

Here comes the heart attack. "_Grrckle?_"

"Hey, it costs a lot to taxi people interdimensionally. Real expensive business. We gotta keep ourselves running somehow."

"Through _highway_ _robbery?_" Jill accused, voice squeaky.

"Not all the time. We sometimes put on puppet shows for little tykes on the streets. They love the _Martha and George_ act—"

Harry blinked, hands still buried in the folds of his pockets. "Th-that sounds… legitimate enough."

"—then we kidnap the brats and sell them on eBay. They sell really well – pedophiles make the best customers, because kids are _actually_ less expensive than the candy needed to abduct them. When the streets are quiet, we like to pillage the random peaceful village."

Oh god.

Now very well aware of the fact that they were in the presence of a _horrible nasty criminal_, Harry pulled his hands out of his pockets frantically; all that came with them was some lint. He glanced towards Jill hopelessly, who just barely managed to force back a gulp of panic.

However, she was not known as "Jill the Jack-killer" for nothing. She rightfully earned that name when she _happened_ to be on the scene when Jack broke his crown. What relevance does this have to the current predicament, you may ask…?

Why do _you_ want to know? Leik, fr srs. Stop being a fucking stalker and get a life. I'm talking to _you_. With the epidermis. …The diseased epidermis.

"Holy mofo!" she shrieked, whipping her hand towards the window. "It's a… a… a… purple cow!"

The taxi driver snorted disdainfully, raising a bushy eyebrow. "Yeah, way to use an old trick. I happen to know very well that the toxic fumes and flames, that this particular mode of transportation created when it broke through the threads that keep reality itself strong and relentlessly carved it a tunnel through time and space, killed every living thing within a hundred kilometer radius."

"No, fo sho! There's totally a purple cow!"  
"…Are you really that insistent? _There is no purple cow_."

"You _stink_."

"And you're funny-looking."

Rats. It appeared that this man was well-versed in the art of throwing scathing remarks. It looked like Jill would have to pull out the greatest hateful insult she had in her arsenal. "Yeah, well…YOUR MOM!"

She expected him to look insulted. She did _not_ expect the rage and grief that suddenly twisted his wrinkled face, or the voice of deadened pain that answered her. "My mom died. When I was five. Of breast cancer."

"…"

"I bet you feel good about yourself now, huh?"

"…YOUR DAD!"

"He was killed on the job. An anvil fell on his head."

"…"

"He was an extra in an episode of _Bugs Bunny_. Needless to say, that episode was never aired."

Harry laughed weakly as Jill slouched back, defeated by this revelation of unfortunate history. When the driver shot him a sharp look, he instantly adopted a look of sympathy – perhaps the Bugs Bunny thing _wasn't_ a joke. "I-I'm so sorry about your loss…es. But, um…i-if the toxic f-fumes and f-flames do k-kill as you say they do…then won't they kill us when we leave the cab?"

The expression of childhood trauma and internal sorrow disappeared off the driver's face, replaced with a look of complete incredulity. "Of course. Did you actually think I'd let you off _without_ robbing your dead bodies after the fumes and flames disappeared?"

_That_ shut Harry up. Bewildered, he glanced towards a sullen Jill. "…I-I don't know what to say to that…J-Jill, what do I say to that?"

She mulled over the question, slowly chewing her lip. "…Your _sister_."

"Received capital punishment when she beat her boyfriend, her _other_ boyfriend, and that guy she picked up at a bar to death – apparently, they weren't comfortable with a four-way. What the authorities didn't know was that she was being controlled by a parasitic alien looking to frame her because she was the key to stopping their invasion of Earth."

"…Oh."

"Yeah. The aliens are still at large and working their evil schemes as they slowly infest our politicians and celebrities."

"…Oh dear."

"Yep. So anyways…" He stuck his hand out again, scowl deepening. "My sixty-five thousand, eight hundred seventy-one bucks and twenty-two cents and half a soul. And because you forced me to relive painful memories, I'm adding in an eyeball. Cannibals find them to be a delicacy, and would pay top dollar for them."

Harry's squeaky chuckle returned as he tugged on Jill's sleeve frantically. "J-Jill, think of something, p-please, b-before I wet m-myself…"

"EVERY GANGSTA FOR HERSELF!" Flinging off Harry's desperate hand, Jill dived for the door handle – because apparently she was too busy thinking up new insults to recall the whole "toxic fumes and flames" conversation.

And then the cold barrel of a gun pressed itself against her head.

"…Oh shit."

"Oh no you don't," the driver growled as Jill froze, hand on the handle and eyes staring deer-like at the apocalyptic scenery just beyond the window. "My money. _Now_."

Now was the time for Harry to suffer a nervous breakdown~. He hurled himself towards the floor of the cab, hands clasped and begging as he crouched in the cramped space. "W-We _have_ no money! We only m-manage to g-get anything d-done through a s-series of comically convenient accidents! Please, t-take p-pity on uuuuus!"

"Hell no. I wanna get _paid_. Those strippers don't dance for free."

"Oh god, please…I-I'm snivelling a-at your feet h-here!"

"Yeah, and you're getting mucus on them. That's another fifty bucks added to your bill."

Jill said nothing.

There was nothing to say.

She had a gun pointed threateningly at her head, no gun herself (being a gangster herself, she should look into getting one of those), and her only hope was a wimp who succeeded at only making everything worse. Not even the faintly glowing silhouette – partially obscured by the coagulated smog, rapidly becoming clearer and closer as the smoke magically thinned out, and blackened grass regained a healthy green pigment as the flames doused themselves – was something that she could point out at this moment. Or the flowers that bloomed with every step the figure took; and now he stood at the front-passenger's window, silver whipping through the air and easily slicing a precise circle in the glass, and as that fell away, the slim sword found itself quivering just between the driver's eyes.

Leik lolwut. Barely coherent paragraph? 8D

Farbus' eyes gleamed with an eerie light as the gun fell out of the driver's shocked hands, his perfect teeth slightly bared. "I would suggest you allow my friends leave, _sir_."

"Right away, my good man~" With a humble flash of yellowed teeth, the driver snapped away from Jill, setting the gun down gently.

Farbus snorted scornfully (cowardice was, after all, far below him, even if the driver had a perfectly legitimate reason to be afraid) as he swung open the back door, glare fixated even as two tangles of limbs and relieved sobs tumbled out beside him.

Jill managed to execute an admittedly graceful faceplant, while Harry scrambled towards Farbus' feet. "Land! Laaaaaand! Ohmygosh, laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand! It's not on fire! I'm alive and still perfectly tough! …Yo! I love ya, man!"

"O-Oh sacred g-guardian angel," Harry whispered hoarsely, curling around the taller man's ankles and kissing his toes reverently. "Once a-again, y-you've s-s-s-saved me from certain d-d-death…I-I don't kn-kn-know how I c-can live w-without you now…"

While most people would have found such a declaration a tad bit creepy, Farbus took it all in stride with an airily boastful grin. "I do what I can. As for you, _knave_," he spat back at the taxi driver, "you will think upon your sins. May the good queen Kireina have mercy upon your wasted soul."

"Right away, my righteous sir~"

Farbus fell silent for a moment, scrutinizing the haggard man critically. "What is your name, infidel?"

The driver nodded eagerly, hand diving into his pocket and whipping out a grimy business card that he pressed into Farbus' hand. "Taxi, milord. Taxi C. Driver."

"Until you have seen the light of Queen Kireina Oni, Taxi C. Driver." With a stoic nod, Farbus slammed the door; not missing a beat, the yellow checkered vehicle began trundling away, wheezing in protest and coughing out coagulated smog. The look in Farbus' eyes turned into one of sorrow as he shook his head regretfully. "I can hear mother nature crying out in pain against that monstrosity…seriously, it's giving me a migraine."

"O-Oh gracious lord wh-whose e-eyes are like th-the gracious s-sky…" Harry looked up towards Farbus' finely carved face hopefully, relieved to see his idol looking back down on him with a gleaming smile. "How d-did you know to c-come to our rescue?"

"Oh, I found this." Farbus reached into the pockets of his loose vest – only now did Harry notice that he had changed out of the slim-fitting armor from earlier for soft, silky fabrics of brown and green, and _damn_ did he look good in it – to pull out a wrinkled piece of paper that he quickly unfolded and smoothed out. "I asked around at the palace, but no one knew who it belonged to, and then I remembered you guys, and I figured I may as well ask you."

Harry blinked, quickly rising to his feet and delicately accepting the paper. He turned it over in his hands, scrutinizing it. "I don't r-recognize it…but it m-must have b-belonged to someone, I-it's been cut into _some_ sort of sh-shape, and th-there's a hole, l-like it's h-had a thumbtack through i-it…"

"The shape's all familiar." Jill finally had her fill of praising safety, and was glancing at the rounded shape with curiousity. "Like…Iunno, some sort of whacked-out facial feature…"

"It couldn't be an e-eye," Harry said, shaking his head. "Sh-shape j-just isn't _right_…a m-mouth?"

"A really fucked up mouth."

"Or a very fucked up nose," Farbus suggested, taking it and stuffing it back into his pocket. "Plastic surgery gone wrong. Anyways, since this doesn't seem to be yours…"

"NO!" Even though Harry's slight weight wasn't enough to make Farbus stumble back, the knight was still surprised when the smaller boy leapt at him and wrapped his arms around his waist, wailing. "D-Don't leave us! Wh-what if that t-taxi driver comes b-back and threatens us? Or w-we're attacked by a b-bloodthirsty b-beast? WHAT IF I GET HIT BY ANOTHER DOOR? I can't l-live without you!"

"Well…I figured you two kids would need some help, since Queen Kireina is kinda in the middle of a vicious battle so getting an autograph from her would be kinda risky, so I was going to say I wanted to tag along. Maybe have some thrilling and heartwarming adventures along the way."

"…YES!"

"Hold up." Jill snatched Harry's collar, pulling him away sharply. With a gagging sound and a whimper, he was forcibly separated from his hero. "I need to talk to the crybaby."

"Make sure you go far enough to escape my earshot," Farbus said, nodding wisely. "I have super-hearing. Comes with being an elf and all."

The two froze, glancing back at Farbus with blank expression. "…An elf," Jill repeated slowly, frowning behind the brim of her hat.

"Ja."

"That would explain the fucking pointy ears…and the prettiness…"

"And the epic skills," the knight added. "Never forget those, _very_ important."

"Right. Anyways…"

_/Twenty minutes later of walking a couple of feet, giving up, and promising Farbus a wench for him to woo and redeem into a better life through Queen Kireina's saving grace if he covered his ears and made sure not to pay attention to anything they said._

"What the _fuck_ arecha thunkin', having him come along?" Harry's pained whimper to being punched in the head and Jill's hisses were both kept comfortably below the volume of Farbus' (beautiful and honeyed) humming as the man rocked back and forth on his heels, fingers plugged firmly into his ears. "He fucking adores the chick we're try to curbstomp here!"

"B-but I can't l-live without him! Besides," the boy added, sniffling, "w-we need someone to p-protect us as we sn-snivel and hide from all d-danger…"

"…Point taken." Now that she thought about it, it meant that Harry had someone else to cry to whenever he got a papercut. OH YAYZZLES. "I guess we'll just burn that bridge when we come to it."

"So you're conversation is done now?"

Harry and Jill squeaked, whipping around to see Farbus standing over them, ears unplugged and staring. "Wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh…"

"Don't worry. I only unplugged my ears when you said 'come to it'. I figured you were talking about pornography, which is admittedly an embarrassing topic, so I understand you being wary of me being a part of the conversation…"

Harry promptly died inside.

"…I'll just carry him," Farbus said, picking up the slack body and slinging him over his shoulder. "Now to get to New Vestroia…"

"Hold up, the driver said we were at New Vessy!"

"You kidding?" Chuckling at the very thought, Farbus busied himself with waving his hand through the air to create a glowing door way (happily without a physical door, kthxbai). "We're in the newest region of the Pokemon world, Hellion. They got hit with a bad case of the Team Munchies."

"…"

"Yeah, I think they're running out of names too."

The next few moments were silent as Jill watched Farbus literally work his magic and finish carving out the portal, when another thought occurred to her. "Fuck, you can make your own portals? Why the fuck didja leave us to the homicidal taxi driver?"

Farbus glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "I had to hurry to the Temple of the Holy Queen Kireina Oni so that I wouldn't miss the mass held in her honour. Queen Kireina _always_ comes before mysterious, slipshod travellers who look like they haven't showered in weeks."

"…oh."

"Ja. ^^ Queen Kireina comes before all else~"

Oh the comfort.

**-im-**

"SCENE SWITCH. SCENE SWITCH. OH MY GOD. OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD. I'VE BEEN WAITING ON THIS MOMENT FOR TWO AND A HALF MONTHS NOW."

"That's kinda sad. Like, pathetic sad. Even sadder that you had to say that all with the capslock button on."

"…Tell me, how is your story planning going?"

"Shut the fu—"

A crashing sound and a murderous scream announced a new arrival. "YOU STOLE STANLEY THE WALRUS MUSTACHE AND GAVE IT TO _THEM?_"

"…"  
"Hey…Wynnie…"

**-im-**

"…Okay, dude," Dan finally spoke up, squinting against the safe shadow of his arm, thrown up protectively against his face. "Can someone turn down the lights? We've been standing like this for half an hour now, it's starting to hurt…"

No Daniel.

Silly, silly Daniel.

Naïve Daniel.

He was going to be standing there quite a bit longer. At least until this authoress got off her lazy ass and engaged herself with her writing a bit more often.

So ends this chapter of the worst Mary Sue parody of all time. It is really, really sad when one can never seem to get to introducing your principal character.

Tsk~

**-im-**

There is an old guy.

He sits in the middle of a darkened room, the only source of illumination being a flickering lightbulb in the corner that dangles from a few frayed wires. An unlit cigar flops from his wizened lips, matching the movement of jiggling jowls, wrinkles haunting in the twist of weak light and darkness

The rocking chair, held together on spit and prayers after its last termite invasion, groans and wails as the old man shifts back and forth, his shrunken fingers twisting and tugging at something unseen in the darkness.

Milky white eyes gaze unceasingly ahead, only faltering under the tremble of heavy eyelids. He dreams, reader. Dreams.

Perhaps he's dreaming of _you_. Being an insolent tramp.

And you want to know something else?

_He's masticating to this thought._

**

* * *

**

||Whoever gets the 'masticating' reference (besides CG) totally gets a cyber hug from me~ If you don't get the ref…then GTFO. You fail at basic fanfiction history knowledge. DX

**Also: Pedophilia is a serious issue, and I am a horrible person for making fun of it. I beg you to sue me.**

…**AND YES I WILL GET TO THE FUCKING SUE NEXT CHAPTER.**


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